Why One Should Never Feed an Owl Canary Creams
by CrazyGirl47
Summary: While delivering a letter from Ron to the twins, Pig eats a Canary Cream... but they weren’t meant for owls. Now the twins are trying to fix an enormous hyperactive canary before it destroys their joke shop... and before their brother finds out.
1. A Large Problem

_**Why One Should Never Feed an Owl Canary Creams**_

_Author's Notes:_ This is a companion fic to my story "The Prank War." I was sitting at the computer, writing this part where Fred and George are explaining their ordeal to Ron, and started laughing so hard that I just had to write this as a separate fic. This is set during Harry, Ron and Hermione's seventh year. AU after OotP; Voldemort defeated in sixth year, Lucius Malfoy dead, Sirius still alive, and a prank war going on between the seventh years at Hogwarts.

This fic will be slowly updated, and its chapters will be shorter than my usual work; it will be multi-chaptered but not too long. I refuse to let it become as big a project as my other stories are. I hope I don't have to abandon it, but I might; regardless, the idea was too much fun to pass up. I would appreciate any and all feedback.This is a repost, by the way; the initial post came out mangled.

_Summary:_ While delivering a letter from Ron, Pig eats a Canary Cream… but they weren't meant for owls. Now the twins are trying to fix an enormous hyperactive canary before it destroys their joke shop… and before their brother finds out.

**Chapter One**

_A Large Problem_

It was a little after noon and Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes had just opened for business. So far, there were only six customers in the shop, all of them browsing the shelves with interest while Fred and George Weasley, entrepreneurs extraordinaire, chatted away behind the counter.

The Weasley twins looked up when the door chimes went off; Lee Jordan had said he'd drop by, but it was only a pair of customers, a tall, good-looking brunette girl about Fred and George's age with a little boy, presumably her kid brother, at her side.

"Check her out," Fred muttered.

"She's okay," George said with a shrug.

"She's hot," Fred argued.

"I prefer blonds," George said.

"Well, then, you won't mind if I go over there," Fred said as the girl split up from her brother and went wandering the aisles.

"Help yourself," George said with a grin, turning to rearrange a Ton-Tongue Toffee display.

Fred put on a charming smile and started to head over, but before he could, something small and gray bounced off his head.

"Ouch!" he complained. Fred looked around for what had hit him and saw his brother's owl, Pigwidgeon, zooming around George.

"We've got to buy Ron a new owl," Fred said irritably as George made a wild grab for Pig and missed.

"Excuse me," someone said, and Fred turned to see the pretty brunette standing in front of him. "Could you tell me what these are, exactly?" She gestured at a bowl of Canary Creams.

"Ah, one of our first inventions," Fred said with pride. "These, my friend, will turn anyone who eats them into a canary—temporarily, of course," he added hastily, seeing her shocked look. "Allow me to demonstrate."

He picked up one of the Canary Creams and unwrapped it, then set it in the palm of his hand and started to lift it to his mouth. Before he'd gotten halfway there, however, Pig came flying out of nowhere and snatched the treat from his hand.

"Pig, NO!" Fred and George yelled.

Too late. The tiny owl had swallowed the candy.

A bang like a gunshot went off and the whole shop began to fill with yellow smoke. The brunette girl started screaming.

"It's okay!" Fred tried to yell, but coughed on the smoke.

"It's Big Bird, Angie!" shouted the girl's brother excitedly.

"Joey, RUN!" she screamed.

"What's happening?" George shouted, unable to see.

"Not to worry, folks!" Fred called over the noise as the customers panicked. "It's all under control—those things just aren't meant for owls, you know, says right on the wrapper: 'Intended only for human digestion…'"

"The 'folks' have all evacuated, Fred, don't bother!" George told him. The smoke was beginning to clear, and the shop was indeed empty, save for Fred, George, and a five-foot-wide, seven-foot-tall yellow bird, an even mix of canary and owl.

"Bloody hell," George breathed, staring at the once-small bird. "Is that Pig!"

"No, George, it's a customer come to ask about our exclusive line of exploding underwear."

"Oh, shut—aaah!"

Pig had suddenly let out an ear-splitting hoot and started to raise his wings, one of which smacked into a shelf and sent a bunch of boxes crashing to the ground.

_"Stupefy!"_ George yelled, then hurriedly ran as far away from Pig as possible as the giant yellow canary/owl fell forward on the joke shop floor. "Damn it, why couldn't Ron have sent us a letter with Hedwig?"

"Well, at least he'll be molting in a few seconds," Fred muttered, stepping forward to detach the letter from Pig's leg.

"Whatever Ron has to say, it had better be good," George said, leaping over Pig to read the letter over Fred's shoulder.

_Dear Fred and George,_

_Hi guys; how's the shop going? Things are pretty crazy here at Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione and I need your advice. I'm sure you two, of all people, remember the traditional seventh-year prank war… well, the three of us need some major help getting revenge on Malfoy. I'm talking the worst prank you can think of. Hermione says "preferably something really humiliating," at least, that's what she said right after Malfoy got her. You won't believe what he did—he put sleeping potion in her juice, and then when she passed out he stole all her clothes and put her in Snape's bed! With him! She's still fuming about it. So we thought we'd ask you for your expertise. Harry's writing to Remus and Sirius, and Ginny's making lists of people we could get to help and minor pranks we could do like Bulbadox Powder or whatever, and Hermione has actually gotten Snape to help us… but I decided to ask the masters. Any ideas? I don't suppose you'd be willing to give us anything from the joke shop for cheap? Please write back as soon as possible._

_—Ron_

"Could you just picture Hermione's face, waking up in Snape's bed?" George said as the two of them laughed.

"I can't believe we never thought of that," Fred said, gasping for breath. "Oh, she _so_ would have killed us."

"We've got to ask for details next time we see her."

"Yeah, as long as there's nothing sharp around. Well, let's see… guess we better start thinking of how best to advise him," Fred said. He wiped away a fake tear. "I'm so proud… he's finally following in our footsteps…"

"Idea Number One: Feed Malfoy's owl a Canary Cream," George said thoughtfully.

Fred looked down at Pig in concern. "You know, he should have molted a good long while ago…"

George swallowed. "You do think he will eventually, though, don't you? I mean, surely he'll turn back into an owl soon, right?"

Fred and George looked at each other in concern.

"Right, then, we get rid of the evidence and claim we didn't know a thing about this," Fred said cheerfully.

"Yeah, but how precisely are we going to do that? We can't just… just _kill _Ron's owl and cut it into little pieces or whatever," George said, frowning.

"Good point… well, we'll just have to send him back to Ron and let Ron wonder what the hell happened."

"Um, Fred? Don't you think the fact that Pig is now a mutant canary as big as Hagrid might be a clue? And the fact that Pig was coming here could be a tip off…"

"Well… why don't we… oh, _I_ know! HAGRID! We'll send him to Hagrid; he'll know what to do! And even if he doesn't, Hagrid will go to Dumbledore!"

"Good plan… but how will we get him to Hagrid?"

The twins thought about this for a second, glancing around the shop for inspiration. Finally, George's gaze settled on the fireplace and his eyes lit up.

"I've got an idea."


	2. Plan B

_Author's Notes:_ Just a reminder, this is AU after OotP. I'm not using ANYTHING from HBP or, when it comes out, DH. My version of what happened in sixth year is completely different, as is all portrayal of the twins' shop.

**Chapter Two**

_Plan B_

Lee Jordan stopped in front of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes; a large, hastily scribbled sign was propped up in the front door, saying "closed until further notice due to flying emergency." Wondering just what that meant, Lee pulled out the spare key the twins had given him and unlocked the door, pushed it open and stepped inside.

"Hello?" he called out.

"We're closed," George called back shortly. "Come back later."

Lee stepped around the shelves, following the slight grunting sounds he could hear from the back of the shop. He caught sight of the twins and blinked, startled; Fred and George were both busy trying to stuff a canary the size of a baby elephant into the fireplace.

"What the hell are you _doing?"_ Lee demanded.

Fred and George looked up. "Oh, hey, Lee," Fred said. "Give us a hand, will you?" he added, as casually as if he wanted help restocking a shelf.

"What's going on?" Lee repeated, confused.

"We're trying to send Pig over to Hagrid," George said calmly, as though that made all the sense in the world.

"Guys, that's not a pig, that's a bird under an engorgement charm."

"Not _A_ pig, Pig! Pigwidgeon. Ron's owl."

"Yeah, you know how we never tested the Canary Creams on animals?" Fred said.

"You fed _Ron's owl_ a Canary Cream? The boy helped kill Voldemort, for crying out loud!"

"Of course we didn't. It fed _itself_ a Canary Cream," George said, pushing his back against Pig, who was still quiet from the Stunning Charm. George used his legs to shove harder. Pig, however, was simply too big to fit in the fireplace.

"So you're trying to set it on fire, then?" Lee guessed. "Destroy the evidence?"

"We're not setting it on fire; we're trying to send it to Hagrid by Floo!" Fred exclaimed.

"Um… okay. Can it talk?"

"What? No. No, it can't talk. Of course not."

"Then how will you get it to say 'Hagrid's hut' once you've got it in the fireplace? And while I'm pointing out flaws in the plan here, even if you somehow managed to send it out, won't it get stuck in the Floo Network? The Network's not meant for something as big as that bird, and even if he makes it to Hagrid's, will he be able to get out of _his_ fireplace? Not to mention what Hagrid might do to an enormous yellow beast that goes shooting into his cabin… how, precisely, will you explain it to him? Unless you're there when it happens, Hagrid might even attack Pig; I know _I_ would."

Fred and George stared at him. They had been friends with Lee for over nine years now, and it had always been Lee's unofficial job to figure out where they could go wrong with one evil scheme or another, but it never ceased to amaze them when Lee found something, especially when it should have been completely obvious to the twins just how their plot could mess up.

"Right, then," Fred said as he and George stepped away from Pig, who promptly landed on the floor with a loud thud. "Time to come up with Plan B."

"For once, I don't see what we could do. What, are we going to teach him to Apparate?" George said.

"Well, maybe he can still fly."

"Yeah, Fred, we'll send him straight out the window. One of his feet just might be able to squeeze out."

Fred sighed and looked up at the roof appraisingly. Unfortunately, they couldn't really remove even part of the roof; their shop had an apartment over it, in which the twins currently lived. They wouldn't be able to get Pig out of the door, either; it was far too small, and would require getting Pig past the shelves to the front of the shop.

"Um, guys? Call me crazy, but I'd say your best bet would be a Portkey," Lee suggested.

"Of course!" George said, smacking his forehead. "Why didn't _we_ think of that?"

* * *

"This job sucks," Beverly muttered as she picked up another Portkey application. What on Earth had possessed her to join the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?

"Hey, kid, be glad you're still a trainee," said her only co-worker on duty, Ryan. "Once you've got more experience, you'll have to fill out the paperwork for when you find a suspicious Portkey application. Talk about annoying."

"Mm," Beverly said, frowning down at the application that a redheaded guy had dropped off an hour ago.

_Name: Fred Weasley_

_Age: 19_

_Occupation: Co-owner of the best damned joke shop the world has ever seen_

_Is this your first time applying for a Portkey? Yeah_

_Requested Starting Point: Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, Number 93, Diagon Alley_

_Requested Destination: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as close as possible to the gamekeeper's hut_

_How many will be utilizing this Portkey? Three: me, my brother, and a huge-ass bird_

Beverly shook her head; the entire application was bizarre. "Speaking of suspicious apps," Beverly said slowly, "listen to this… 'Reason for Traveling by Portkey: We can think of no other way to get a seven-foot-tall canary to Hogwarts.' That can't be right…"

"A seven-foot-tall _what?_"

"Canary," Beverly repeated, confused. "Maybe they just can't spell…"

"I can't think of what they'd be trying to spell that they would put 'canary.' Hmm…"

"Definitely a suspicious application… although usually people are much better at their excuses, you know…"

"Smart people aren't the only ones who apply for an authorized Portkey for something illegal," Ryan said with a shrug. "I once had an application from an Azkaban inmate. As if we were actually going to send a prisoner a Portkey to the Three Broomsticks."

Beverly smiled absently but continued staring at the application thoughtfully. "Fred Weasley… that rings a bell…"

"Oh, Fred and George? Their older brother works here. Percy. You met him at the Christmas party last year, remember? And their dad's in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. They're those twins who own that joke shop, and their brother Ron helped defeat You-Know-Who."

"Oh, yes, I think I remember them from Hogwarts… they were about four years younger than me, though. Anyway… who do we send this to? The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"

"Hard to say… tell you what, give it here, and I'll send a copy of it up to them, and then we'll make two more copies and send one to the Improper Use of Magic Office and one to Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

* * *

When Fred returned from the Ministry, where he'd applied for an authorized Portkey, he found that George and Lee had gone and tied Pig up to the fireplace. "Hey, I thought you two were going to put him in the storeroom!" Fred said.

"We were, until the Stunner wore off and he tried to flap his wings," George said irritably. "He set off a box of fireworks, but we got the flames put out."

"That's good to know," Fred said wearily. "Well, I applied for the Portkey; they said to check back at five o'clock to see if my request was approved."

"Whew," George said. "Then it should all be over soon. Well, I reckon we can reopen now."

Fred went and took down the "closed" sign; within minutes, six or seven people were in the shop.

"I told you, Mummy, it's Big Bird!"

Fred turned to look; the kid brother of the girl from earlier had returned, this time (Fred was sad to note) with his mother. "Big Bird, how… original," Fred muttered.

"It's a television character… Muggle thing," Lee explained.

"Um, you might not want to get too close," George said hastily—but unfortunately, the second Stunner wore off just then.

Pig let out a happy squawk right in the kid's face and began twittering madly, flapping around. The kid's mother screamed and grabbed her son, dragging him away and out the door.

"Okay, let's just cross that entire family off the 'potential customer' list," George said as Lee renewed the Stunning Spell.

"What the hell is that thing?" asked a curious witch.

"It's… um… it's… well, it's a very large canary, can't you tell?" George said.

"How'd you get it so large?" the witch asked.

"We… overfed it," Fred told her lamely.

"Right," the witch said, shaking her head.

A wizard in a very nice cape with a fur-trimmed hood looked at it speculatively. "How much would it go for?"

"Beg pardon?" George said, startled.

"That bird. I'd like to buy it. It would have possibilities, you know, a seven-foot-tall canary…"

Fred looked hopefully at George, who shook his head. Fred sighed. "Sorry, it's not for sale. It's our brother's owl."

"It doesn't look much like an owl to me."

"Well, see, he accidentally ingested one of these," Fred explained, gesturing to the Canary Creams.

The man looked at the Canary Creams speculatively. "All right, then. I'll take the lot."

"Sold!" George said quickly. Conscience only went so far, after all.

"You guys are _so_ going to hell," Lee said conversationally as the man left.

"What?" George asked innocently. "It says right on the package that they're meant for humans only. We've done our civic duty."

"Whatever."


End file.
